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MEMOIR 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS 



WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 



i 
ADDITIONAL NOTICES, 



BY A FRIEND. 

-;- o r 



,>yb^-is>, ^' /' '>^ p^- ^^'' 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY GRAY AND BOWEN. 

1832. 






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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832, 

By Gray & Bowen, 
in the Clerk's office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



■'^94- 



PRINT'ET) BY I. R. B U T T S....B O S T O N . 



n 



r- 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 



The autobiography of Miss Adams is written with 
the modesty and unobtrasiveness which distinguished 
her character. It appears as if composed reluctantly, 
under the feeling that the community could hardly 
care to know anything about the struggles, disappoint- 
ments, hopes and purposes of an individual so hum- 
ble as herself She undertook the task at the request 
of some of her friends, who thought that the cir- 
cumstances of her life, and the traits of her charac- 
ter, well deserved to be remembered. But her 
principal motive in executing it, was to leave it as a 
legacy, which she hoped might be of some small 
benefit to an aged and very infirm sister, to whose 
comfort she had devoted her little savings for many 
years. It presents a lithographic drawing of herself, 
which will recall the features of her mind to those 
who knew her, and give some idea of them to those 
who did not. 

The continuation of her life is by a lady, one of 



IV 

those friends whose kindness she has acknowledged 
with warm gratitude towards the conckision of her 
own narrative. It could not have been confided to 
better hands. The discrimination and delicacy with 
which the retiring virtues, and nicer shades of her 
character are delineated and produced, will explain 
to those who did not know her, what was the charm 
that drew genius and wealth, and youth and beauty, 
to minister with so much interest to the infirmities of 
a poor old woman. 

Miss Adams was indeed deserving of such interest. 
Her life is, in many respects, full of instruction. 
Among those who have overcome great and pecuhar 
difficulties in the pursuit of knowledge, she holds a 
distinguished place. She became a literary woman, 
when literature was a rare accomplishment in our 
country. She has produced one work, her History 
of Religions, whicli is the best of its kind, eminent 
for its great impartiality. But it was not merely for 
her powers of mind that she was remarkable, but for 
her warm affections, her glow of gratitude, and her 
childlike simplicity. It is honorable to the commu- 
nity in which she lived, that an individual, destitute 
as she was of all adventitious claims to distinction, 
should have been properly estimated and respected. 

This note is prefixed by the gentlemen to whom 
she left the charge of publishing her manuscript. 

A. N. 
J. T. 



CHAPTER I. 

Being arrived at an age in which I cannot 
reasonably expect my life will be long con- 
tinued, at the request of a highly esteem- 
ed friend I am about to give a concise out- 
line of my past life ; notwithstanding I am 
sensible that a retrospect of past errors, faults 
and misfortunes, will be exceedingly painful. 

I was born in Mediield, a country town 
about eighteen miles from Boston. My father 
early imbibed a love of literature, and pre- 
pared to enter the university. But as his 
constitution then appeared to be very infirm, 
and he was an only son, his parents were 
strenuously opposed to his leaving ihem. 
Accordingly, to his inexpressible disappoint- 
ment, he was obliged to settle upon their large 
farm, without a suitable knowledge of, or 
taste for, agricultural pursuits. This induc- 
1 



Z LIFE OF 

ed him to open a shop, for the sale, pnncipal- 
ly, of English Goods and Books. His taste 
for reading continued unabated till his death, 
which took place at the advanced age of 
eightyeight years. 

From my infancy I had a feeble constitu- 
tion ; in particular, an extreme weakness 
and irritability in my nervous system. Hence 
I can recollect uneasiness and pain previous 
to any pleasurable sensations. My mother 
was an excellent woman, and deservedly es- 
teemed and beloved ; but as her own health 
was delicate, and she possessed great tender- 
ness and sensibility, I was educated in all the 
habits of debilitating softness, which probably 
added to my constitutional want of bodily 
and mental firmness. 

My father's circumstances then appeared 
affluent, and it was not supposed I should be 
reduced to the necessity of supporting my- 
self by my own exertions. Partly from ill 
health, and an early singularity of taste, 1 
took no pleasure in the amusements to 
which children are generally much attached. 
My health did not even admit of attending 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. D 

school with the children in the neis^hborhood 
where I resided. The country scliools, at 
that time, were kept but a few months in 
the year, and all that was then taught in 
them was reading, writing and arithmetic. 
In the summer, the children were instructed 
by females in reading, sewing, and other 
kinds of work. The books chiefly made use 
of were the Bible, and Psaher. Those who 
have had the advantages of receiving the ru- 
diments of their education at the schools of 
the present day, can scarcely form an ade- 
quate idea of the contrast between them, and 
those of an earlier age ; and of the great im- 
provements which have been made even in 
the common country schools. The disad- 
vantages of my early education I have expe- 
rienced during life ; and, among various oth- 
ers, the acquiring a very faulty pronunciation ; 
a habit contracted so early, that I cannot 
wholly rectify it in later years. 

In my early years I was extremely timid, 
and averse from appearing in company. In- 
deed, I found but few with whom I could 
happily associate. My life, however, was 



LIFE OF 



not devoid of enjoyment. The first strong 
propensity of my mind which I can recollect, 
was an ardent curiosity, and desire to acquire 
knowledge. I remember that my first ideaof 
the happiness of Heaven was, of a place 
where we should find our thirst for knowledge 
fully gratified. From my predominant taste 
I was induced to apply to reading, and as my 
father had a considerable library, I was en- 
abled to gratify my inclination. I read with 
avidity a variety of books, previously to 
my mind's being sufficiently matured, and 
strengthened, to make a proper selection. I 
was passionately fond of novels ; and, as I 
lived in a state of seclusion, I acquired false 
ideas of life. The ideal world which my 
imagination formed was very different from 
the real. My passions were naturally strong, 
and this kind of reading heightened my sen- 
sibility, by calling it forth to realize scenes 
of imaginary distress. I was also an enthu- 
siastic admirer of poetry ; and as my memory, 
at an early period, was very tenacious, I 
committed much of the writings of my favor- 
ite poets to memory, such as Milton, Thorn- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. O 

son, Young, &:c. I did not, however, neglect 
the study of history and biography, in each 
of which kind of reading I found an inexhausti- 
ble fund to feast my mind, and gratify my cu- 
riosity. 

Another source of my enjoyments in early 
life was an ardent admiration of the beau- 
ties of nature. This enthusiasm was height- 
ened by the glowing descriptions of poetic 
writers, and I entered into all their feelings. 
This taste has continued through life. At the 
present time, when age and experience have 
in some measure repressed the warmth of my 
feelings, and while I am now writing, I 
should be more delighted with beautiful ru- 
ral prospects, and fine flowers, than when in 
early life I used to be enraptured with con- 
templating the sublime and beautiful in the 
works of creation. 

My early life was diversified with few 
events, and those of a painful nature. The 
loss oF my excellent mother, which happen- 
ed when I had reached my tenth year, was 
the first severe trial I was called to suffer. 
When her death took place^ I was at an age 
1* 



b LIFE OF 

when maternal direction is of the greatest 
importance, joarticularly in the education of 
daughters. Soon after, I was bereaved of 
an aunt, who was attached to me with al- 
most maternal fondness. A few years after, 
my father failed in trade, in consequence of 
which I was reduced to poverty, with a con- 
stitution and early habits which appeared in- 
vincible obstacles to my supporting myself 
by my own exertions. Instead of that gaye- 
ty, which is often attendant on youth, I was 
early accustomed to scenes of melancholy 
and distress ; and every misfortune was en- 
hanced by a radical want of health, and firm- 
ness of mind. My life passed in seclusion, 
with gloomy prospects before me, and sur- 
rounded with various perplexities from which 
I could not extricate myself. The solitude 
in which I lived was, however, to me, pre- 
ferable to society in general ; and to that, 
and to my natural singularity, I must impute 
that awkwardness of manners, of which I 
never could divest myself at an advanced pe- 
riod of life. A consciousness of this awkward- 
ness produced a dislike to the company of 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 7 

Strangers. Those who have been accustom- 
ed to general society when young, can scarce- 
ly imagine the trembling timidity I felt, when 
introduced to my superiors in circumstances 
and education. I, however, enjoyed society 
upon a small scale. 1 had a few dear friends, 
(for novels had taught me to be very roman- 
tic,) who were chiefly in indigent circumstan- 
ces, and like myself had imbibed a taste for 
reading, and were particularly fond of poet- 
ry and novels. Most of them wrote verses, 
which were read and admired by the whole 
little circle. Our mutual love of literature, 
want of fortune, and indifference to the so- 
ciety of those whose minds were wholly un- 
cultivated, served to cement a union between 
us, which was interrupted only by the remov- 
al of the parties to distant places, and dis- 
solved only by their death. Yet I soon 
experienced this melancholy change. One 
after another became victims to the King of 
Terrors, till our little society was greatly 
diminished ; and I deeply felt these bereave- 
ments which were irreparable. 
Still, however, I was blessed with a sister of 



8 LIFE OF 

similar taste and sentiments, but very dif- 
ferent in her disposition. I was warm and ir- 
ritable in my temper ; she, placid and even. 
I was fluctuating and undecided ; she, steady 
and judicious. I was extremely timid ; she 
blended softness with courage and fortitude. 
I was inclined to be melancholy, though 
sometimes in high spirits ; she was uniform- 
ly serene and cheerful. I placed the strong- 
est reliance upon her judgment, and as she 
was older than myself, she seemed the ma- 
ternal friend, as well as the best of sisters. 
In short, ' she was my guide, my friend, my 
earthly alL^ 

As I was too feeble to engage in any la- 
borious employments, I found considerable 
leisure for reading ; and as my happiness 
chiefly consisted in literary pursuits, I was 
very desirous of learning the rudiments of Lat- 
in, Greek, geography , and logic. Some gen- 
tlemen who boarded at my father's offered 
to instruct me in these branches of learning 
gratis, and I pursued these studies with in- 
describable pleasure and avidity. I still, 
however, sensibly felt the want of a more sys- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. \j 

tematic education, and those advantages which 
females enjoy in the present day. Yet as I 
always read with great rapidity, perhaps 
few of my sex have perused more books 
at the age of twenty than I had. Yet 
my reading was very desultory, and novels 
engaged too much of my attention. Though 
my seclusion from the world preserved me 
from many temptations which are incident 
to young people, I was perhaps more expos- 
ed to errors of the understanding, than those 
who in early life have mixed more with the 
world. Time and experience have led me 
to see the falsity of many of my early opin- 
ions, and ideas, and made me sensible that 
they were the source of a large share of 
the misfortunes of my following life. 



10 LIFE OF 



CHAPTER II. 

Until I had attained the twentieth year 
of my age, my reading had chiefly consisted 
of works of imagination and feeling ; such as 
novels and poetry. Even the religious w^orks 
I perused were chiefly devotional poetry, and 
such works as Mrs Row^e's Devout Exercises, 
and the lives of persons who w ere eminent- 
ly distinguished for their piety. I was al- 
most a stranger to controversial works, and 
had never examined the points in dispute be- 
tween different denominations of Christians. 
But at length an incident in my life gave a 
diflerentturn to my literary pursuit. 

While I was engaged in learning Latin and 
Greek, one of the gentlemen who taught me 
had by him a small manuscript from Brough- 
ton's Dictionary, giving an account of Armin- 
ians, Calvinists, and several other denomina- 
tions which were most common. This awak- 
ened my curiosity, and I assiduously engag- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 11 

ed myself in perusing all the books which I 
could obtain, which gave an account of the 
various sentiments described. I soon became 
disgusted w^ith the want of candor in the 
authors I consulted, in giving the most unfa- 
vorable descriptions of the denominations 
they disliked, and applying to them the names 
of heretics, fanatics, enth usiasts, &c. I there- 
fore formed a plan for myself, made a blank 
book, and wrote rules for transcribing, and 
adding to, my compilation. But as I w^as 
stimulated to proceed only by curiosity, and 
never had an idea of deriving any profit from 
it, the compilation went on but slowdy, though 
I was pressed by necessity to make every exer- 
tions in my power for my immediate support. 
During the American revolutionary war, I 
learned to wTave bobbin lace, which was then 
saleable, and much more profitable to me than 
spinning, sewing or knitting, which had pre- 
viously been my employment. At this pe- 
riod I found but little time for literary pur- 
suits. But at the termination of the Amer- 
ican war, this resource failed, and I was again 
left in a destitute situation. My health did 



12 



LIFE OF 



not admit of my teaching a school, and I 
was glad to avail mjself of every opportu- 
nity of taking any kind of v\^ork which I 
could do, though the profit was very small, 
and inadequate to my support. One pleas- 
ing event occurred in this gloomy period. I 
had the satisfactionof teaching the rudiments 
of Latin and Greek to three young gentle- 
men, who resided in the vicinity. This was 
some advantage to me. Besides, it was a 
pleasant amusement. One of these young 
gentlemen was the Rev. Mr Clark, of Norton, 
who pursued his studies with me till he en- 
tered Cambridge University, and has contin- 
ued his friendship for me during life ; and 
his uniform excellent character I have ever 
highly appreciated. 

The difficulty of taking in such kinds of 
work as I could do, for I was not, like my 
sister, ingenious in all kinds of needle work, 
induced me, as the last resort, to attend to my 
manuscript, with t]ie faint hope that it might 
be printed, and afford me some little ad- 
vantage. I was far from bemg sanguine as 
to the result, even if I accomplished this ob- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 13 

ject, I had been in the habit of employing 
myself very diligently for trifling profits, and 
those who are in easy circumstances cannot 
form an adequate idea of the lively satisfac- 
tion I felt, when I could procure any work 
by which I could earn a few shillings. This 
kind of enjoyment, which Providence has 
given to the poor, appears intended to soften 
the many difficulties in their situation. 

I was sensible, that, in printing my manu- 
script, I had various obstacles to encounter. 
It w^as difficult to procure proper materials 
for the work in my sequestered abode. I felt 
that my ignorance of the world, and little 
acquaintance with business, would put me in 
the power of every printer to whom I might 
apply. I, however, resumed my compilation 
on an enlarged scale, which included a few 
of the reasons which the various denomina- 
tions give in defence of their different reli- 
gious systems. Stimulated by an ardent 
curiosity, I entered into the vast field of 
religious controversy, for which my early 
reading had ill prepared me. I perused all 
the controversial works I could possibly obtain 
2 



14 LIFE OF 

with the utmost attention, in order to abridge 
what appeared to me the most plausible ar- 
guments for every denomination. As I read 
controversy with a mind naturally wanting 
in firmness and decision, and without that 
pertinacity which blunts the force of argu- 
ments which are opposed to the tenets we 
have once imbibed, I suffered extremely from 
mental indecision, while perusing the various 
and contradictory arguments adduced by men 
of piety and learning in defence of their re- 
spective religious systems. Sometimes my 
mind was so strongly excited, that extreme 
feeling obliged me for a time to lay aside my 
employment. Notwithstanding it required 
much reading to perform my task, the pain- 
ful feelings I suffered while preparing my 
work for the press far outweighed all the 
other labor. Reading much religious con- 
troversy must be extremely trying to a female, 
whose mind, instead of being strengthened 
by those studies which exercise the judg- 
ment, and give stability to the character, is 
debilitated by reading romances and novels, 
which are addressed to the fancy and imagi- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 15 

nation, and are calculated to heighten the 
feelings. 

After my View of Religions was pre- 
pared for the press, the difficulty still remain- 
ed of finding any printer willing and able to 
print it without money immediately paid. 
But at length, after various perplexities, this 
compilation was put to the press in 1784. 
The profit to myself was very small ; for, as 
it might well have been expected from my 
father's inexperience in the business of book 
making, he was completely duped by the 
printer, in making the bargain. After being 
at the trouble of procuring upwards of four 
hundred subscribers, all the compensation 1 
was able to obtain, was only fifty books ; and 
I was obliged to find a sale for them, after 
the printer, (whose name, out of respect to 
his descendants, I omit to mention,) had re- 
ceived all the subscri})tion money. As my 
books sold very well, the printer must have 
made something handsome by the publica- 
tion. 

The effect of reading so much reli- 
gious controversy, which had been very 



16 LIFE OF 

trying to my mind, was extremely prejudicial 
to my health, and introduced a train of the 
most painful nervous complaints. I was at 
length brought so low, that the physician who 
attended me supposed I was in a decline. 
But after a tedious interval of extreme suffer- 
ing, I began gradually to recover ; and after- 
wards found my complaints were increased, 
by following the injudicious advice of the 
physician who attended me. To the skill 
and attention of my friend Dr Mann, former- 
ly of Wrentham, I owe, under Heaven, the 
preservation of my life at this period. 

Soon after I began to recover, I received a 
letter from the printer of my View of Reli- 
gions, informing me that he had sold the 
greatest part of the edition, and was about 
to reprint it; and requesting me to inform him 
if I Avished to make any additions to my 
work. As I had the precaution to secure the 
copy- right, agreeably to the law passed in 
Massachusetts, 1783, I returned a laconic, 
answer, forbidding him to reprint it ; and 
he finally relinquished the design. 

The information, that the first edition of 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 17 

my View of Religions was sold, gave me the 
idea of reprinting it for my own benefit. 
But as I was entirely destitute of pecuniary 
resources, ignorant of ihe world, incapable of 
conducting business, and precluded from al- 
most all intercourse with persons of literature 
and information, and consequently destitute 
of friends who were able and willing to assist 
me, the execution of the plan was ex- 
tremely difficult. Even the few friends I 
had gained at that time supposed the disad- 
vantages in my situation too great to encour- 
age, my undertaking. Instead of assisting 
me, they considered my plan as chimerical, 
and depressed my hopes and discouraged my 
exertions. 

While I was struggling with embarrass- 
ments and difficulties, I was involved in the 
deepest affliction by the death of the belov- 
ed sister, whom I mentioned in the preced- 
ing Chapter. I then experienced the keen- 
est anguish the human heart can feel in los- 
ing a friend. 

Dearer than life, or aught below the skies, 
The bright ideas and romantic schemes 

2'^ 



18 LIFE OF 

Of perfect love, and friendship, fancy paints, 
In her I realized. 

To describe the excess of mj grief on this 
occasion would be altogether impossible. 
Those, only, who have formed the highest 
ideas of friendship, and have considered their 
earthly happiness as dependent upon the life 
of one beloved object, on whose judgment 
they relied, and in whom they found com- 
fort and support in every difficulty and af- 
fliction, can form an adequate idea of what 
i felt on this occasion ; which led me to ex- 
claim. 

And is she dead ! My life, my all is gone. 
The world's a desert. Nothing now on earth 
Can yield me joy, or comfort. 

The death of my beloved sister made me 
feel almost alone in the w^orld. Our joys 
and sorrows, and all our interests were so 
closely blended, that I nearly identified her 
existence with my own. Everything ap- 
peared gloomy in my situation. My health 
was feeble ; I was entirely destitute of prop- 
erty ; my father's circumstances were very 
low ; and I had no other relation or friend 



MISS HANISAH ADAMS. 19 

from whom I might expect to derive assis- 
tance. But notwithstanding all the difficul- 
ties in my situation, I determined to use every 
possible exertion to help myself; considering 
that, if I was unsucessful in attempting to 
extricate myself from poverty, my efforts 
would awaken the activity of my mind, and 
preserve me from sinking under the weight 
of affliction I sustained in losing the best of 
sisters. It was, perhaps, a happy circum- 
stance, that necessity stimulated me to ex- 
ertion in this most gloomy period of my ex- 
istence. 

After I began to prepare the additions to 
my View of Religions, I found it required a 
great effort to detach my mind from the re- 
collection of past sufferings, and force my- 
self to that mental exertion which is natur- 
ally so congenial to my mind. At length, 
however, I completed the task of preparing 
my work for the press. I had previously, 
in 1790, sent a petition to Congress, which 
was presented by the late Fisher Ames, 
Esq. for a general law to be passed, to 
secure to authors the copy-right of their pub- 



20 LIFE OF 

lications. I now applied to a large number 
of printers to know on what terms * they 
would publish my work. But, though I 
wrote nearly the same letter to all, consist- 
ing of a few direct questions, their answers 
were generally various, prolix, and ambig- 
uous. 

I at length concluded to accept the terms 
of one of the printers to whom I applied, 
who offered me one hundred dollars in books, 
for an edition of one thousand copies. When 
I went to Boston for this purpose, a friend 
of mine introduced me to the Rev. Mr Free- 
man, whom I had only once before seen : 
but I was well apprised of his benevolent 
character, which I found more than realized 
the ideas which I had formed of it from re- 
port. I shall ever recollect the generous in- 
terest he took in my affairs, with the most 
lively gratitude. He removed my perplex- 
ity, by transacting the business with the 
printer. By his advice, a subscription pa- 
per was published ; and I soon found theben- 
eiii of bis patronage, in procuring a large 
number of subscribers, and concluding an 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 21 

advantageous bargain for me with Mr Fol- 
som, the printer. The second editioi? was 
published in 1791; and the emolument I de- 
rived from it not only placed me in a com- 
fortable situation, but enabled me to pay the 
debts I had contracted during mine and my 
sister's illness, and to put out a small sum 
upon interest. 



22 LIFE OF 



CHAPTER III. 

Encouraged and animated by this suc- 
cess, I soon formed the design of engaging 
in another publication, and set myself to 
choose a subject. It was poverty, not am- 
bition, or vanity, that first induced me to 
become an author, or rather a compiler. But 
I now formed the flattering idea, that I might 
not only help myself, but benefit the public. 
With this view, I engaged in writing a Sum- 
mary History of New England. I selected 
this subject, rather for public utility, than for 
my own gratification. My object was to 
render my compilation useful to those in 
early life, who had not time or opportunity 
to peruse the large mass of materials, which, 
previously to my compilation, lay scattered 
in many publications. I knew the work 
would require much reading upon dry sub- 
jects, such as ancient news prints, state pa- 
pers, &c. But I wrote for a bare subsis- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 23 

tence, and never wished to gain anything 
from the public which I had not at least 
earned bj laborious investigation. I also 
considered, that attention to such an antipo- 
etical subject would have a tendency to keep 
my mind in a more healthy state, than the pe- 
rusal of works which are calculated to excite 
the feelings. I therefore resolved to fix my 
attention by investigating simple facts, and 
by relinquishing to a great extent the reading 
works of taste and imagination. 

When I compiled this work, there was not 
any history of New England extant, except 
Mather's Magnalia, and Neale's History ; 
and these extended only to an early period in 
the annals of our country. If there had been 
only one work, which reached to the accep- 
tance of the Federal constitution, my task 
had been far less laborious. There was no 
authentic account of Rhode Island, except 
that of Callender's. This induced me to 
spend some time in Providence, in order to 
examine the Records in the Secretary's office. 
The perusal of old manuscripts, which were 
damaged by time, was painful to my eyes ; 



24 LIFE OF 

but as they were naturally strong, I did not 
for some time perceive the injury I suffered 
from the task. 

After I returned from Providence, I attend- 
ed to my compilation with unremitting dili- 
gence, and hoped not only to obtain a tem- 
porary support, but to make a small provis- 
ion for future subsistence. Stimulated by 
these sanguine views, I wrote early and late 
during one winter, and expected to put my 
work to the press the ensuing spring. But 
how vain were all these pleasing anticipa- 
tions ! A new misfortune arrested my pro- 
gress, and made me feel my entire depen- 
dence upon divine Providence. I found my 
sight suddenly fail to that degree, that I was 
obliged to lay aside reading, writing, and eve- 
ry employment which required the use of my 
eyes. In this distressed situation, I consult- 
ed a number of physicians ; and their prescrip- 
tions rather increased, than diminished my 
complaints. The gloomy apprehension of 
being totally deprived of my sight was dis- 
tressing beyond description. I not only 
anticipated the misfortune of being obliged 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 25 

forever to relinquish those literary pursuits 
which had constituted so much of my enjoy- 
ment during life, and was at this time my 
only resource for a subsistence, but as I had 
from my earliest years been an enthusiastic 
admirer of the beauties of nature, I felt the 
most painful sensation in reflecting that the 
time might arrive, when 

' With the year 
Seasons return, but not to me return 
Day, or tlie sweet approach of eve or morn, 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer rose. ' 

At length, by the advice of a respectable 
friend, I applied to Dr Jeffries ; and by assid- 
uously following his prescriptions for about 
two years, I partially recovered my sight. 
For the encouragement of those who are 
troubled with similar complaints, I would 
mention, that when I first consulted the doc- 
tor, he had not any expectation my eyes would 
recover so as to enable me to make the use 
of them I have since done. But by apply- 
ing laudanum and sea water several times in 
the course of the day, for two years, I re- 
covered so far as to resume my studies ; and 
S 



26 LIFE OF 

by employing an amanuensis to assist me in 
transcribing my manuscript, I was enabled to 
print the work in 1799. Previously to put- 
ting the copy to the press, I consulted all the 
living authors, and showed them the use I 
had made of their works in my compilation, 
and they did not make any objection. As 
my eyes were still weak, I could not bestow 
the same attention in condensing the last 
part of my History, as the first ; and conse- 
quently the History of the American Revo- 
lution was much more prolix than I originally 
intended. In giving an account of the war, 
my ignorance of military terms rendered it 
necessary to transcribe more from Dr Ram- 
say's History, than I had done in any other 
part of the w ork. I therefore wrote an apol- 
ogy to the doctor, and had the satisfaction of 
receiving in return a very interesting letter 
from Mrs Ramsay, expressing her approba- 
tion of my work, and inclosing a bill of ten 
dollars. Before my eyes failed, I had sent 
out a subscription paper ; but afterward, the 
idea that I never should be able to complete 
the compilation, induced me to drop it ; and 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 27 

I was obliged to publish the work almost 
entirely at my own expense. The printers 
were in low circumstances, and required pay- 
ment before I could dispose of the books. 
I was therefore obliged to borrow a sum of 
money to defray the expenses of the work, 
which, as it was printed on very good paper, 
were large, and I derived but little profit 
from my labor. 

My next publication w^as the third edition 
of my View of Religions, to which I made 
the addition of a hundred pages. The 
Rev. Mr Freeman, who continued his kind 
attentions, made the bargain for me with the 
printer, by which I was entitled to receive 
five hundred dollars in yearly payments, for 
an edition of two thousand copies. This 
relieved me from the embarrassments in 
which I was involved by printing my History 
of New England at my own expense. As 
my eyes still continued too weak to engage 
in any new laborious work, I determined to 
wait till a large part of my History of New 
England w^as sold ; and then, if my life con- 
tinued, to abridge it for the use of schools. 



28 LIFE OF 

In the meantime, however, I set about 
writmg a concise Yiewof the Christian Re- 
ligion, selected from the writings of eminent 
lajmen. I wrote with difficulty, as my eyes 
were still very weak ; but I wished to exert 
myself as much as possible to be useful, and to 
gain a subsistence. Though attention to reli- 
gious controversy had led me to feel undecid- 
ed on some disputed points, of which perhaps 
Christians of equal piety form different opin- 
ions, my conviction of the truth of divine rev- 
elation, instead of being weakened by all my 
researches, was strengthened and confirmed ; 
and I wished to make a public declaration of 
my sentiments on this important subject. I 
found it difficult to procure proper materials 
for the work, as I was utterly unable to pur- 
chase books. A considerable part of this 
compilation, as well as the additions to -the 
third edition of my View of Religions, was 
written in booksellers' shops. I went to 
make visits in Boston, in order to consult 
books in this way, which it was impossible 
for me to buy, or borrow. 1 desire, however, 
to recognise with gratitude the attention of 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 29 

my kind father, who took pains that I should 
have the benefit of all books which he could 
procure, and assisted me greatly in disposing 
of my works. When I had completed my 
compilation, I found the printers and book- 
sellers unwilling to purchase the copy, be- 
cause much had been written on the subject, 
and these publications were unsaleable. At 
length, in 1804, 1 agreed with a printer to ex- 
ecute the work, upon the small consideration 
of receiving only one hundred dollars in 
books. 

The tenor of my life at this time was very 
monotonous. It was enlivened, however, by 
gleams of happiness, from the society of a 
few friends, and the pleasure I derived from 
literary pursuits ; and, by my convictions of 
the truth of that religion, to the examination 
of which I had devoted so much of my time. 
My eyes still continued very weak, and I 
wrote under the apprehension of being reduced 
to a state that would preclude all application 
to study. A considerable part of my Histo- 
ry of New England being now disposed of, 
my only resource appeared to be to abridge 
3* 



30 LIFE OF 

that work for the use of schools. The pro- 
fit I hoped to derive from this compilation 
seemed to me to constitute all I had to de- 
pend upon in future, if my life should be 
spared. While I entertained these hopes, in 
which 1 was made sanguine by my know- 
ledge of the success with which books for 
schools had been printed, can it be a subject 
of blame, or reproach, to a person in my 
situation, that I felt extremely grieved, and 
hurt, when I found my design anticipated by 
a reverend gentleman, whose calling, and in- 
defatigable industry, are highly respectable ? 
The difference between us was left to re- 
ferees, who sustained a high reputation for 
ability, and sound judgment, extensive infor- 
mation, and moral excellence. I was satis- 
fied with their decision. But I was reduced 
to the painful task of writing on the subject ; 
for, though I took this measure with extreme 
reluctance, my opponent left me no other 
alternative. I sincerely hope the painful 
affair may never be recalled to his prejudice. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 31 



CHAPTER IV. 



Notwithstanding the little profit, and va- 
rious discouragements I had experienced in 
writing for the press, as I w^as entirely de- 
pendent upon my own exertions for a sup- 
port, I was resolved to persevere. 1 had 
now acquired a number of valuable friends, 
to whose generous exertions in my favor I 
was deeply indebted. By several of them, 
I was enabled to put my abridgment of the 
History of New England to the press. I was 
however unfortunate in this, as well as my 
other compilations. The printer failed while 
it was in the press, which deprived me of 
the profit I expected to derive from it. Two 
years afterwards, I published a new edition. 
A similar misfortune befel me in this second 
attempt to avail myself of my labors. 

But though my productions were far from 
being profitable, and I had frequent inter- 



32 LIFE OF 

ruptions in my studies from ill health, and 
bad ejes, I still had mj share of enjoyment. 
I hoped my works might be useful, and I 
was highly gratified by their candid recep- 
tion by the public. 

I next chose a subject in which I thought 
it probable that I should not meet with any 
interference. 1 formed the design of wri- 
ting the History of the Jews, though I was 
sensible that it would require much reading, 
and that I must wander through a dreary 
wilderness, unenlivened by one spot of ver- 
dure. My curiosity was strongly excited, 
and I determined to persevere in my at- 
tempt to investigate the fate of this won- 
derful people. I began the introduction 
with their state under the Persian monar- 
chy, after their restoration from the Baby- 
lonish captivity. The standard works for 
this History were Josephus, and Basnage, 
the latter of whom brings his narrative down 
only to the 19th century. After this pe- 
riod, I was obliged to compile from desultory 
publications and manuscripts. I had at this 
time the privilege of corresponding with the 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 33 

celebrated Gregoire, who had attamed 
great ceJebritj for the conspicuous part he 
acted during the French Revolution, and ex- 
erted all his energy in the first constitu- 
tional assembly to procure the rights of cit- 
izens for the Jews. He had the goodness 
to send me some writings in their favor, 
which increased the interest I felt in this 
oppressed people. 

Previously to concluding this gloomy detail 
of the difficulties 1 encountered, while wri- 
ting for the press, I would fir^t notice, that 
I was obliged to exert myself to the utmost 
to overcome my natural timidity, and ac- 
commodate myself to my situation. After 
the age and infirmities of my father pre- 
vented him fiom assisting me, as he had 
formerly done, in selling and exchanging 
the copies of my work, I was necessitated to 
exert myself in doing business out of the 
female line, which exposed me to public 
notice. And as I could not but be sensible 
that my manners were remarkably awk- 
ward, this consciousness, joined with my ig- 
norance of the established rules of proprie- 



34 LIFE OF 

ty, rendered me tremblingly apprehensive 
of exposing myself to ridicule. These un- 
pleasant feelings, however, in time abated. 
In order to meet this trial, I considered, 
that w^hat is right and necessary in the sit- 
uation in which Providence has placed me, 
cannot be really improper ; and though my 
acting upon this principle may have exposed 
me to the censure, or ridicule of those, whose 
ideas upon the subject are derived from the 
varying modes of fashion, and not from the 
unchanging laws of moral rectitude, it saved 
me from a feeling which would have been 
infinitely more painful, that of self-reproach. 
My objects were, to obtain the approbation 
of my own heart, and the esteem of a few 
friends whose opinion I most highly prized, 
and I was comparatively indifferent to the 
censure or ridicule of the world in general. 
In the life of Mrs Charlotte Smith it is 
pertly remarked, that the ' penalties and 
discouragements attending authors in gen- 
eral fall upon woman with double weight* 
To the curiosity of the idle, and the envy 
of the malicious, their sex affords a pecu- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 35 

liar excitement. Arraigned not merely as 
writers, but as women, their characters, their 
conduct, and even their personal endow- 
ments, become the object of severe inquisi- 
tion. From the common allowances claimed 
bj the species, literary women appear only 
to be exempted.' 

Though I have been too insignificant, and 
treated with too much candor, fully to real- 
ize the above remarks, yet I have been in 
a situation deeply to feel the trials which at- 
tend literary pursuits. At length I saw old 
age approaching, without any provision for 
it, when if my life was spared, I should be 
incapable of exerting myself ; and my mind 
was at times depressed by this gloomy pros- 
pect. 



36 LIFE OF 



CHAPTER V. 

While I was compiling my History of the 
Jews, I boarded in Dedham. I was here 
honored with the friendship, and received 
the kind offices of Mr Dowse, his lady, and 
her sister,* and more pecuniary favors than I 
have ever experienced from any other indi- 
viduals. Whenever I visited this happy 
family, I was received with the utmost cor- 
diality ; and I desire publicly to express my 
grateful sense of their goodness. 

While writing my History, my eyes, which, 
since I had first injured them, have been 
occasionally troublesome, failed to that de- 
gree, that I was induced again to go to Boston 
to consult Dr Jeffi^ies, in the hope, that, by 
attending to his directions, I might finish my 

*Mrs Shaw, who allowed Miss Adams one hundred dol- 
lars a year, for twentyfive years, paid to her quarterly, by 
Josiah Q,uincy, Esq. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 37 

work. During this visit at Boston, I receiv- 
ed the unexpected intelligence, that a num- 
ber of benevolent gentlemen had settled an 
annuity upon me, to relieve me from the 
embarrassments I had hitherto suffered. 
The Hon. Josiah Quincy, Stephen Higgin- 
son, Esq. and William Shaw, Esq. were some 
of its first promoters. This providential 
interference excited my most lively gratitude 
to my generous benefactors, and I hope I 
sensibly felt my deep obligation to the source 
of all good. 

My generous friends could hardly appre- 
ciate the extent of the benefit they conferred 
upon me. I had not been able to make any 
provision for my declining years, and had not 
a place on earth which I could call my home. 
My spirits were depressed by my destitute 
circumstances, and I am persuaded that un- 
der Providence, the generosity of my friends 
was the means of prolonging my life. 

I had now attained a condition more eligi- 
ble than my most sanguine wishes could ever 
have led me to anticipate. If in early life 
I could have enjoyed the literary advantages 
4 



38 



LIFE OF 



I now possessed, I should have thought it 
the height of earthly happiness. But I was 
now too far advanced in life to profit by the 
advantages I had gained. However, 1 was 
grateful, and happy. My friend William 
Shaw, Esq. gave me the liberty of frequent- 
ing the Atheneum. Amidst that large and 
valuable collection of books, I found an in- 
exhaustible source of information and enter- 
tainment ; and among other advantages, I 
found a few literary friends, in whose conver- 
sation I enjoyed ' the feast of reason and 
the flow of soul.' Among the many bless- 
ings I was favored with, I shall ever highly 
appreciate the acquaintance and friendship of 
the late Rev. Mr Buckminster, in whom I 
contemplated with admiration the rare union 
of intellectual, moral, and religious excellence; 
of a powerful mind with extensive informa- 
tion, and a feeling heart enlivened by devo- 
tion. He was admired for his distinguished 
abilities and learning by all who knew him ; 
but the peculiar traits of benevolence, noble- 
ness of mind, sincerity and sweetness of 
temper, which adorned his character, could 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 39 

only be duly appreciated by those who were 
honored with his friendship. 

Mr Buckminster was so kind as to give 
me the use of his large and valuable library, 
which was of great advantage to me in com- 
piling my History of the Jews. In my ef- 
forts to complete the work, I was encourag- 
ed and animated by his participating in the 
interest I felt in this extraordinary people. 
Though entering into the details of the suf- 
ferings of the persecuted Jewish Nation, yet 
the enthusiasm Mr Buckminster inspired, 
and the pleasure of conversing with him 
upon a subject with which he was intimately 
acquainted, rendered the time I was writing 
my History one of the happiest periods of 
my life. I completed my work in 1812, a 
few months before his death. 

In the year 1812 I sustained a severe af- 
fliction, by the sudden death of Mr Buck- 
minster. Amidst the large number who 
lamented his death, I believe there was none 
(except his near relations) who felt more dis- 
tressed than myself. I desire, however, to be 
grateful to divine Providence for the privi- 
lege of his acquaintance and friendship. 



40 LIFE OF 

While my feelings were deeply suscepti- 
ble from the recent wound they had received 
by the death of Mr Buckminster, I went to 
Medfield to visit my aged father, with the 
hope that I might do something to adminis- 
ter to his comfort, and in this way soothe my 
own grief. But while I was with him, he 
was seized with a complaint which put a 
period to his life. Though from his age, 
and infirmities, I had been often led to an- 
ticipate this event, I found it very trying 
when I actually realized it. He had been a 
very kind parent to me, and though he could 
not bestow any property upon me, he was 
very solicitous to aid me as far as he could. 
He was a great assistant to me both in pro- 
coring books, and in disposing of my works. 
During the last years of his life, he was as- 
siduously engaged in studying the sacred 
Scriptures, with the assistance of all the 
commentaries he could procure. In the fune- 
ral sermon preached upon his death, the Rev. 
Dr Prentiss observes, ' He was ever strongly 
attached to the society of literary and se- 
rious people, particularly of the clergy, with 
a number of whom he kept up a friendly in- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 41 

tercourse. There is reason to believe, that 
by his exertions for many years he contribu- 
ted in no small degree to the diffusion of 
knowledge and piety, and to the advance- 
ment of the cause of Christ.' My father's 
love of books continued till the last. He 
read, and heard reading, on the day on which 
he expired. My residence in Boston en- 
abled me to procure books for his perusal, 
and it afforded me great pleasure to be thus 
permitted to gratify my honored parent. 

When, after the death of my father, I 
returned to Boston, my mind was depressed 
with my recent losses. But I was sensible 
that I was still favored with many inestima- 
ble privileges. Mr Buckminster had been 
so kind as to introduce me to a number of 
his acc[uaintances, who treated me with that 
genuine kindness which is the essence of 
true politeness. 

Among the number of those excellent 
friends, to whom Mr Buckminster was so 
kind as to introduce me, I would particular- 
ly recognise Mrs Dearborn, and Mrs Win- 
4* 



42 



LIFE OF 



throp, who shone in the circles of polished 
life, and adorned their eminent stations by 
their engaging manners, and highly cultiva- 
ted minds ; and still more, by their christian 
virtues. They were blessings to those 
around them ; and for a course of years fa- 
vored me with their attention, and kind offi- 
ces. When they were removed by death to a 
higher state of existence, I deeply mourn- 
ed the heavy and irreparable loss I sustained. 

While deeply indebted to the bounty of 
my dear and honored friends, I wished to 
pursue my literary occupations with as much 
diligence as my health would permit. But in 
the decline of life, I was so far debilitated by 
repeated fevers, at small intervals from each 
other, that I was unable to write for the 
press. At length, I so far recovered, as to 
resume a work I had formerly begun-, upon 
the New Testament, which I designed to be 
much larger than it is; but my advanced age 
induced me only to publish a little book, en- 
titled, ' Letters on the Gospels,' which has 
passed through two editions. 

I have already mentioned the perplexity 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 43 

and embarrassment of my mind, while wri- 
ting my View of Religions. After remov- 
ing to Boston, and residing in that city while 
the disputes upon Unitarian sentiments 
were warmly agitated, I read all that came 
in my way upon both sides of the question ; 
and carefully examined the New Testament, 
with, I think, a sincere and ardent desire to 
know the truth. I deeply felt the difficul- 
ties upon both sides of the question ; yet 
prevailingly give the preference to that class 
of Unitarians, who adopt the highest idea of 
the greatness and dignity of the Son of God. 
I never arrived to that degree of decision 
that some have attained on that subject. 
In this, and every other disputable sub- 
ject, I would adopt the following lines ; 

If I am right, thy grace impart 

Still in the right to stay ; 
If I am wrong, O teach my heart, 

To find the better way. 



NOTICES 

IN CONTINUATION 



BY A FRIEND. 



NOTICES. 



Those who have been favored with a 
personal knowledge of the Author of the 
short Memoir contained in this book, will 
read it with the deepest interest ; and per- 
haps to them it may seem almost superflu- 
ous to say more of her. But Miss Adams's 
works have circulated far beyond the sphere 
in which she moved, and there are many 
who are desirous of knowing her, as she was 
appreciated by others, and not by her own 
estimate. Such would be poorly satisfied 
with the short sketch she has given of her- 
self, though her friends must ever value it as 
a parting legacy. 

The ^ timidity of early years ' followed 
Miss Adams through life ; and, even when 
surround ^d by intimate friends, it never 



48 LIFE OF 

wholly forsook her. It was a sensitiveness 
that sprung from deep feeling, and a diffi- 
dence that was the result of genuine hu- 
mility. This often operated unfavorably 
upon her manners, and produced an awkward- 
ness, of which she- was painfully conscious. 
But there were times vv^hen the warmth of 
her heart, and the cultivation of her mind, 
gave an enthusiasm and eloquence to her 
language, that astonished those who listened 
to her. At such times, her countenance lost 
its usual calm placidity, and glowed with an 
animation that rendered it highly interesting. 
There was indeed a wonderful singularity in 
her appearance. In the circles of polished 
life to which she was often courted, there 
was nothing like her. In the circles of hum- 
ble life, she was equally unassuming, and 
equally peculiar. No one could see her, 
without feeling that she was not of this 
world. It is possible that part of this timid- 
ity might have arisen from the seclusion of 
early years. But it is certain, that no culture, 
or discipline, could have formed her man- 
ners to the standard of easy and fashionable 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 49 

life. She sometimes observed, ' I know I 
am very awkward ; I never could learn to 
make a curtsey.' But it must not be suppos- 
ed that there was in her any want of gentle- 
ness, or propriety. Her disinterested and 
affectionate disposition made her, in reality, 
all that the most calculating would desire to 
appear. 

The simplicity, and often the abstracted- 
ness of Miss Adams' manner, led many to sup- 
pose that her talents were confined to the sub- 
jects on which she wrote. Some considered 
her as a walking dictionary of ' Religious 
Opinions.' Others viewed her merely as an 
' Abridgment of the History of New Eng- 
land.' And many said, ' if you want to 
know Miss Adams, you must talk to her 
about the Jews.' And this last was, indeed, 
a subject that always called forth the energy 
of her mind. She had faithfully studied 
their history, and she venerated the antiqui- 
ty of their origin. Her inquiring mind was 
deeply interested by their ' wonderful desti- 
nation, peculiar habits, and religious rites.' 
She felt for them as a suffering and persecut- 
5 



50 LIFE OF 

ed people ; and she felt yet more, when she 
considered them as a standing monument of 
that religion, which she regarded as the 
first and best of God's gifts to men. It was 
the long contemplation of this chosen race 
that induced her, amidst all the obstacles 
that were in her way, to write their history. 
It was an arduous labor. Yet her work is 
a proof, that, in this * barren wilderness she 
found many a spot of verdure.' But those 
who viewed her merely in relation to her 
literary works, knew her but imperfectly. 
With her extreme simplicity, there was an 
uncommon depth of observation, and an in- 
tuitive knowledge of character. She was 
often in circles where her timidity kept her 
almost wholly silent, and where she hardly 
seemed to be even a spectator. But her 
subsequent remarks would show how accu- 
rately she had observed, and how nicely she 
had discriminated. In speaking of a lady 
of her acquaintance, she said, ' I value and 
admire her, but I can never be easy with her. 
She is so kind, and so condescending, that I 
can see she never forgets I am a poor awk- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 61 

ward old woman.' At another time, when 
deploring the loss of a young lady, whose 
fine talents had made her the delight of her 
friends, ' and yet,' she said, ' she died at the 
best time. Her powers were brilliant, and 
beautiful, but they were exhausting to her- 
self; and had she lived, she would have 
faded before she reached her prime.' Her 
mind was habitually cheerful, and her cheer- 
fulness was much increased by her sensibility 
to the works of nature. She looked upon 
every object with the eye of a poet, and 
forgot her infirmities, and even her diffidence, 
as she described her emotions. On visiting 
her sister, who resided in the country, after 
having been confined to her chamber, in the 
city through the winter, * it seemed to me,' 
said she, * as if the world was just created.' 
No one could exclaim with more feeling and 
truth, 

* T care not, fortune, what you me deny, 
You cannot rob me of free nature's grace, 
You cannot bar the windows of the sky. 
Through which Aurora shows her brightening face.* 

There is but little doubt, that, had she 



52 LIFE OF 

given way to the natural temperament of her 
mind, which was enthusiastic and romantic, 
she might have been a poet. But her duties, 
and her lot', led her into a different path of 
life. In her youth, however, she occasion- 
ally listened to the inspiration of the muses ; 
and though she never set any value on these 
productions, they discover much excellent 
thought, and a high tone of feeling. 

The want of early advantages, to which 
Miss Adams so feelingly alludes in her me- 
moirs, ought not to be forgotten, nor the 
difficulties through which she struggled. 
Her attendance upon any school was ex- 
tremely uncertain, and often interrupted by 
her feeble health. Added to this, the schools 
of a country ' village are not often of the 
highest class. Even the elementary parts 
of education are much neglected in them. 
' I never,' said she, ' was taught how to hold 
my pen.' 

There is nothing that more strikingly de- 
notes the progress of literature in this part 
of the country, than the attention which is 
at present paid to female education. There 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS, 53 

are few branches, if any, in which boys are 
instructed, which are not now equally open 
to girls. Not many years ago, however, the 
test of a good school rested principally upon 
the exhibitions made of hand-writing, spel- 
ling, and arithmetic. Grammar, it is true, 
was professedly taught, but in a manner that 
conveyed few ideas to the pupil. To get 
the longest lessons, and to be at the head of 
the class, constituted the best scholar. By 
degrees, parsing, in its simplest forms, was 
Introduced, to aid the knowledge of gram- 
mar. Composition, geography and history 
followed ; and the education of girls began 
to assume a more respectable standing. Yet 
even at this period, our village school-mas- 
ter much resembled Goldsmith's, of whom, 

* The village all declared how much he knew ; 
'Twas certain he could write and cipher too.' 

It was at such schools as these that Miss 
Adams received her early education. Her ar- 
dent thirst for knowledge, however, and her 
industry and perseverance enabled her, in ma- 
turer life, to make uncommon acquirements. 
6* 



54 LIFE OF 

Yet she always felt, and regretted, the 
want of more thorough, and systematic in- 
struction. Her father entered into trade 
as a desperate resource from the weariness 
of an agricultural life, for which he had no 
taste. He was plundered, and cheated by the 
man, whom he engaged to carry on his farm ; 
and as he had plunged into all the transac- 
tions of a country trader, dealing in books 
and drugs, English and West India goods, 
through all came vexation and disappoint- 
ment, and a total failure ensued. A large 
proportion of his books were left on his 
hands, and afforded to Miss Adams great fa- 
cilities for reading. Her father, too, happily 
for her, had encouraged in her a taste con- 
genial to his own ; and her mind became cul- 
tivated, and embued with knowledge, al- 
most without her own consciousness of the 
progress she was making. How^ever unpro- 
pitious to her were the pecuniary disap- 
pointments of her father's life, they seem to 
have exerted a favorable influence on her 
mind. Resort was had also, at this time, to the 
receiving of several boarders into the family ; 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 55 

and from these she acquired the knowledge 
of Greek and Latin. Of this knowledge, she 
tells us she availed herself, for fitting three 
young men for College ; and for Mr P. 
Clark, one of her pupils, mentioned in her 
memoirs, she retained through life the warm- 
est regard. He married a friend of hers ; 
and ' this,' said she, ' was the only match I 
ever had any hand in making.' Of her 
mother, she ahvays spoke with enthusiastic 
reverence ; and though only eleven years of 
age when she died, she retained a perfect re- 
collection of her. Mrs Adams was married 
at fifteen, and died at the age of thirty 
three, leaving three girls and two boys. 
Her short life seems to have been filled with 
usefuUiess ; and the following epitaph, writ- 
ten by an Episcopal clergyman, who was a 
particular friend, and constant visitor of the 
family, may still be traced on her humble 
grave stone, should any descendant of ' Old 
Mortality' chance to wander to the spot. 

* Beneath this monument of love and truth, 
Rear'd by fair gratitude's persuasive call, 
Rest the remains of innocence, and youth ; 
Esteem'd, lamented, and beloved by all. 



56 LIFE OF 

Fond of retirement, and of rural ease, 
Her sober wishes never loved to stray. 
Heaven was her aim, her study, how to please, 
And carefully improve each fleeting day ; 
To worth, a friend ; a parent to the poor. 
Such was the woman ! could the saint be more ?' 

After the death of her mother, the care of 
Hannah, and of a younger sister, devolved 
on Elizabeth, who was the oldest daughter. 
They now lived in great retirement ; and 
one of Miss Adams's early employments was, 
weaving lace with bobbins on a cushion. In 
referring to this, she afterwards pleasantly 
observed, that, ' it was much more profitable 
than writing books.' This manner of life, 
with her desultory habits of reading, gave a 
romantic and enthusiastic turn to her mind, 
which was never essentially changed* either 
by time or circumstances. 

Miss Adams's heart was however peculiarly 
alive to the ties of natural affection. She 
deeply felt the death of an aunt, who had 
shown for her maternal tenderness. But as 
long as her sister Elizabeth lived, she had, to 
use her own words, a friend, a counsellor, and 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 57 

guide. ' There was,' she said, *but one heart 
between us ; and I used sometimes to tell 
my sister, in the overflowing of my affection, 
that I could bear to lose everything if she 
was spared to me ; but, if she were taken 
away, I should surely die ! ' Yet this calami- 
tous event took place ; and Miss Adams liv- 
ed to prove, as many others have done, that 
there is, in the day of sorrow, a strength 
imparted beyond human fortitude. The 
health of this beloved sister was declining 
for nearly two years ; and it was, during that 
time, one of her constant objects, to fortify 
Miss Adams's mind for an event, that she felt 
was near, and which she feared would be over- 
whelming. It however gradually approach- 
ed, and brought no terrors to herself. She 
was calm, and resigned ; constantly expressing 
her ' entire submission to the Divine will, 
and laying all her burden at the foot of the 
cross.' There were no enthusiastic flights, 
nor was there any unnatural exaltation of 
mind in her views of death. Though in the 
bloom of youth and with an ardent enjoy- 
ment of life, she met the event like a Chris^ 



68 LIFE OF 

lian. Hers was a philosophy which was 
formed and nurtured by religion. 

'For years after my sister's death,' said Miss 
Adams, ' it was a struggle to live.' Her health 
was extremely feeble, her heart she believ- 
ed broken, and poverty pressed heavily upon 
her. There were times, indeed, when she 
felt as if she had not even a home. Her 
father had made over his house and proper- 
ty to a son, with whom he and his other chil- 
dren continued to live ; but as this son was 
married, and his family was increasing, not- 
withstanding his paternal kindness, Miss 
Adams felt, and could not but feel, as if she 
was a burden upon her brother. This was 
the most trying period of her life, and it was 
always recollected by her with strong emo- 
tion. 

The first effort of her pen, after her sis- 
ter's death, produced some lines on that 
subject. They seem to be the very breath- 
ings of her heart, and are thrown together 
almost without form; yet a few extracts 
from them will best show the state of her 
mind. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 59 

* The first attachment of my earliest years, 
Ere yet I knew to feel the attractive force 
Of sacred friendship, was my love to her. 
Our minds expanding", each succeeding year 
Heightened our mutual friendship. Not a joy 
Ere touched my soul, but when she shared a part. 
When pierced with sorrow, her all cheering smile 
Could give me comfort. Well she knew to bear 
Life's adverse scenes with calm, undaunted mind, 
And placid resignation. Grace divine 
Illumed her soul, and stamp'd its features there. 
* # # # # # 

The best of friends ! Oh, how my bleeding heart 
Recalls her tender love ! Of self unmindful, 
For me she seemed to live ; forever kind. 
Forever studious to promote my good. 
" She was my guide, my friend, my earthly all ; " 
Heaven's choicest blessing. Not a single thought 
Could lurk in close disguise. I knew to trust 
This much loved sister with my inmost soul. 

And must I lose her ! While unkind disease 

Threatened a life so dear, my trembling heart 

Sunk in o'erwhelming wo. Could prayers, or tears. 

Could sleepless nights, or agonizing days. 

And all the care of fond officious love 

Avert thy fate, — sister, thou still hadst lived.' 

Many expressions of her deep feeling on 
this subject might be extracted from her pa- 
pers ; and to her immediate friends, they are 
precious records of a sorrow stricken, and 
resigned spirit. But the friendship of these 



60 LIFE OF 

two sisters was such as ' strangers intermed- 
dle not with.' The death of this sister 
seemed to be the dissolution of a tie, like 
that which occasioned the exclamation of 
David in his beautiful lamentation over Jon- 
athan > ' Thy love to me was wonderful, 
passing the love of women.' 

That Miss Adams drew her support from 
religion under this calamity, her manuscripts 
very clearly show. She employed herself, 
when unable to compose, in making extracts 
from the Scriptures, w^hich she applied to her 
particular state of mind. These she arrang- 
ed in a little book, and preserved till her 
death. 

In her memoirs, she alludes to a small 
circle of females that had gradually been 
draw n together from the neighboring towns, 
by a similarity of taste and situation ; and 
in this circle she found great enjoyment. In 
after years, her imagination probably exag- 
gerated their merit. Yet she retained many 
proofs that they were notof an ordinary stamp. 
In speaking of this knot of friends, Miss 
Adams, said, 'they were all poor, and most 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 61 

of them good-looking,' and then added, with 
her usual simplicity, ' I had the fewest at- 
tractions of any of them.' 

Nor was Miss Adams's pen at this time 
idle. The powers of her mind were early 
appreciated by her young associates ; or, 
perhaps, it is more just to say, that they ob- 
tained that influence, which, however un- 
claimed, is stamped upon superior intellect. 
Mind is created to rule. Wealth, and all mere- 
ly outward distinctions are thrown into ob- 
scurity, when brought in competition with 
mental power. This is strikingly exempli- 
fied in public and professional strife ; and, 
though more minutely, yet hardly less ob- 
viously, in the miniature circle of private 
life. Miss Adams, with all her humility, 
and her retiring modesty, was the casuist of 
her youthful friends. A number of her pa- 
pers that remain, prove how often she was 
resorted to by her companions in cases of 
opinion ; and the publication of a few of 
these, it is believed, cannot be wholly unin- 
teresting to those who knew her in later life. 

One of her young friends put to her this 
6 



62 LIFE OF 

interrogative. Ought mankind to be respect- 
ed for their personal worth alone, abstracted 
from all accidental causes ? 

To this question Miss Adams replied. 

' Mankind ought primarily to be respected 
for their personal worth ; yet if accidental 
causes make that worth appear more con- 
spicuous, it may increase our esteem, which 
still is founded on personal worth in propor- 
tion as it appears. The more we see of 
virtue, the more it ought to attract our love 
and admiration. Virtue becomes visible only 
by its effects. The diamond we value for 
its intrinsic worth. But when it is polished 
and set, its essential beauty appears more 
refulgent. So external accomplishments, 
and accidental causes, set forth the original 
beauty of virtue, and serve to heighten its 
charms. There are particular circumstances 
in which every virtue will shine with pecu- 
liar lustre. For instance, humility has in- 
trinsic exc^lence. But it appears most 
attractive in those who are placed in affluent 
circumstances, and are surrounded by pomp 
and splendor. Fortitude, also, is an excel- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 63 

lent quality of the mind. But suffering and 
adversity must bring it forth. Persons who 
have performed eminent services for their 
country are worthy of greater honor, than 
those who have remained in private life 
with equal worth. I conclude, therefore, 
that mankind ought to be esteemed for their 
personal worth, as it is rendered conspicuous 
by accidental causes.' 

Another question proposed was, whether 
virtue ought not to be regarded as its own 
reward, without any reference to a future 
state of happiness, or misery ? 

To this she replied, ' A regularity of 
conduct is for the interest of all, even were 
their prospects terminated by the enjoyments 
of this life. We cannot doubt that the vir- 
tuous Seneca enjoyed more happiness than 
Nero, his cruel and tyrannical master. So 
far as inward peace of conscience depends 
on virtue, it is its own reward. But we do 
not find that its ends are commensurate with 
its exertions. Honest industry does not 
always bring even a moderate support. It 
therefore appears evident to me, that there 



64 LIFE OF 

would not be sufficient reward for, nor con- 
sequently sufficient excitement to, the sacri- 
fices which virtue requires, without the hope 
of a future life. God, bj the influences of 
his spirit, brings home the truths of the 
Gospel upon the mind, and makes them the 
spring of new, and right principles. Hence 
Divine Revelation informs us, "by his own 
will begat he us by the word of truth." If 
we look for nothing beyond the grave, too 
many will say, " what advantageth it me ? " 
Dr Doddridge observes, " there are some suf- 
ferings of flesh and blood, to which good 
men for conscience' sake have been .exposed, 
so extreme, that without some extraordinary 
support from God, it would be really impos- 
sible that the pleasures of a rational thought 
should be enjoyed by them." Such support 
must arise from a view of a future state, and 
from a conviction that afflictions are but for 
a moment, and are " working out for them a far 
more exceeding, even an eternal weight of 
glory." Not that I mean to say, we are to 
expect Heaven as a reivard for our virtue, 
independent of the free grace of God, But 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 65 

he has promised a glorious inheritance to 
those who do well, and this ought to stimu- 
late men to the greatest industry in his 
service. Love to God is the great principle 
of christian virtue.' 

On another occasion she was applied to by 
a friend, who was placed in an embarrassing 
situation, for her sentiments on the subject 
of forming a connexion, without mutual at- 
tachment. 

The following observations are extracted 
from her reply. 

' It has been readily allowed, that mar- 
riage, without great congeniality, must ren- 
der a person of sensibility extremely wretch- 
ed. Novel writers have general urged the 
impropriety of this connexion from this mo- 
tive. But as this life is only a passport to 
a better, the principal objection ought to 
arise from a nobler source. 

' Both religion and morality require that 
there should be a conformity between our 
words and actions ; and, that in both we 
should always be entirely true. No\v when 



66 LIFE OF 

two people marry, they virtually and public- 
ly declare, that they prefer each other to all 
the world. If that preference be wanting, 
this declaration is a capital breach of sincer- 
ity. It is the declaration of an untruth be- 
fore Heaven and earth. 

' The least deviation from truth, in this 
one capital point, imposes a kind of ne- 
cessity to practise continual dissimulation. 
Having exhibited to the world the strongest 
proof of a peculiar, and individual affection, 
honor and reputation render it of conse- 
quence to keep up the deception. By doing 
this, however, the delicacy of moral feeling 
must be" continually wearing away. And 
what will be the happiness of married life 
under circumstances like these ? 

' The attention which a husband and wife 
have a right to expect from each other, must 
originate in a decided preference of each oth- 
er ; else the inditference of one; of the par- 
ties may effectually destroy that happiness, 
which they had bound themselves by the 
most sacred obligations to promote. 

' But even this continual dissimulation, 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 67 

which is highly injurious to the moral char- 
acter, and extremely painful to an ingen- 
uous mind, will be wholly unavailing for its 
end. True love is of so delicate a nature, 
that it can never be satisfied with anything 
short of love in return ; and it is of a power 
so penetrating, that, by its own light, it 
sees into the heart of the person beloved. 
Its primary object is to possess the heart. 
" Not the warmest expressions of affection, 
or the most fervent protestations, are able to 
give any satisfaction, where we are not per- 
suaded the affection is real, and the satis- 
faction mutual. 

" All these possessed are nought, but as they are 
The proofs, the substance of an inward passion 
And the richplunder of a taken heart." ' 

The first edition of Miss Adams's View of 
Religion was published before her sister's 
death, and partly transcribed by this sister. 
The second was begun as soon after this af- 
flicting event took place, as she could col- 
lect resolution to engage in it. Those who 
knew her might indeed wonder that any mo- 



6S LIFE OF 

tive could at any time be powerful enough to 
induce her to publish a book. Her hu- 
mility, her diffidence, and her total igno- 
rance of business, seemed to present insur- 
mountable obstacles. It was necessary, 
how^ever, that she should earn a subsistence 
in some way. She had tried various meth- 
ods. Making lace, during the war, had been 
one of the most lucrative employments. 
But home-made lace could only be tolerated, 
when no other could be procured ; and as 
soon as importation become easy, it sunk 
into total disuse. Spinning, weaving, and 
braiding straw were by turns tried. But all 
afforded her only a scanty subsistence. Her 
eyes were weak, and often so much inflam- 
ed that she could not use them. Her gene- 
ral health also was extremely feeble, and her 
mind depressed by present evil, and harass- 
ed by distressing fears for the future. ' It 
was desperation, therefore, and not vanity,' 
said she, ' that induced me to publish.' Her 
memoirs mention the disappointment she 
experienced in the profits of her first edi- 
tion. When about publishing a second, it 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 69 

was necessary to pay a few shillings for the 
further security of the copy-right ; and this 
sum, though so small, she was obliged to 
borrow from a friend. On the subject of 
poverty, she always spoke with great feel- 
ing. She had early in life been brought up 
in indulgence ; and poverty had come upon 
her at an age, when the sensibility of the 
heart are most alive. There can hardly, in- 
deed, be a suffering more acute to a feeling 
mind, that has experienced the pleasure of 
bestowing, than to find its means of benev- 
olence cut off, and all its powers necessarily 
turned into a weary, wasting struggle for 
self-preservation. 'And yet,' she said, ' I had 
then enjoyments, of which the rich have no 
idea. When I had any work brought in that 
would enable me to earn a few shillings, by 
which I might buy paper, or any articles of 
stationary, I engaged in writing with an 
interest that beguiled the monotony of my 
life.' After the second edition of her book 
was published, she kept a school for the sum- 
mer months for successive years ; and, 
though in this employment she experienced 



70 LIFE OF 

the usual difficulties of school-keeping in the 
country, it was, upon the whole, a source of 
happiness. As the schools were in the neigh- 
boring towns, she resided among the pa- 
rents of the children hy turns ; and her intel- 
ligent and acute mind often derived amuse- 
ment, and profit, from these occasional re- 
sidences. She treasured up many pleasant 
little anecdotes, that marked the habits and 
manners of the families in which she then 
lived, many of which retained much of the 
primitive simplicity of their forefathers. 

One anecdote may not be unacceptable. 
She passed several months in the family of a 
respectable farmer, whose turn it was to 
receive the school-mistress. His wife was a 
pattern of frugal, industrious management ; 
yet not devoid of that desire of appearing 
^ decent,' which was manifested by the Vicar 
of Wakefield's wife before her. The usu- 
al dress of females in the country at that 
period, when engaged in domestic employ- 
ments, was the ' short russet kyrtle,' confin- 
ed at the waist by a home-spun checked 
apron. This was the costume of the mis* 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 71 

tress of the family. The year Miss Adams 
resided there had been one of uncommon 
prosperity. The crops were abundant, and 
many little luxuries had been added to the 
household establishment/ With injunctions 
of secrecy, the good woman informed her 
guest, that, if the next year also should prove 
to be as prosperous, she intended to wear 
long calico gowns ! 

Miss Adams remarked, that these early 
scenes often recurred to her mind, amidst the 
wealth and splendor she witnessed in la- 
ter life ; and the impressions of both were 
heightened by the contrast. 

That her sensibility was a source of pain, 
as w^ell as of happiness, cannot be doubted. 
She censured herself severely for moments 
of irritation, and felt the keenest self-re- 
proach for what might be truly called the 
infirmity of her nature. That she perfect- 
ly understood her weaknesses, and moral 
exposures, and guarded in her heart the ave- 
nues to temptation, the following resolutions, 
found among her papers, are a sufficient 
proof. 



72 ' LIFE OF 

SERIOUS RESOLUTIONS. 

I resolve to read the Bible more attentive- 
ly, and diligently, and to be constant and fer- 
vent in prayer for divine illumination and 
direction. 

2d. To read less from curiosity, and a 
desire to acquire worldly knowledge, and 
more for the regulation of my heart and life ; 
consequently, to have my reading less desul- 
tory, and to read more books of practical di- 
vinity. 

3d. In choosing my friends and compan- 
ions, to have a greater regard to religious 
characters than I have hitherto had. 

4th. To avoid such company as has a 
tendency to unsettle my mind respecting 
religious opinions. 

5th. To endeavor to preserve a firm re- 
liance on Divine Providence, and to avoid all 
unreasonable worldly care and anxiety. 

6th. To pray and guard against loving 
my friends with that ardent attachment, and 
that implicit reliance upon them, which is 
incompatible with supreme love to, and trust 
in, God alone. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 73 

7th. To endeavor to attain a spirit of 
forgiveness towards my enemies, and to 
banish from my mind all those feelings of 
resentment, which are incompatible with 
the spirit of the gospel. 

For a number of years, no incidents oc- 
curred in the life of Miss Adams which claim 
peculiar notice. It is a long road, with only 
here and there a milestone. She continued 
to write, but on subjects not at all congenial 
with her own taste. She was enthusiastic, 
and a great lover of poetry and fiction ; but 
on these subjects she distrusted herself, and 
made it her constant study to accommodate her 
mind to common life. Her History of New 
England is evidence of her perseverance in 
this purpose, as that work was undertaken 
soon after the second edition of her ' View 
of Religious Opinions.' 

In her memoirs, she mentions her difficulty 
of procuring books that would aid her in her 
purposes. The very uncommon faculty 
she possessed of comprehending, and mak- 
ing her own, the information a book contain- 
ed, greatly assisted her labors. She was 
7 



74 LIFE OF 

invited to pass a week or two at the late 
President Adams's, at Quincy, with the offer 
of his library as an inducement to accept the 
invitation. He was much struck with the 
rapidity with which she went through folios 
of the venerable Fathers ; and made some 
pleasant remarks in consequence, which in- 
duced her to speak of their contents. He 
then found, that, while she had been turn- 
ing over leaf after leaf, she had been culling 
all that could be useful in her labors. She 
possessed the power of application to an 
uncommon degree, and was often so entirely 
engrossed in her subject, as to be uncon- 
scious of the lapse of time. This abstrac- 
tion gave rise to many little anecdotes. It 
was said that she often spent days at the 
Atheneum ; and that the librarian, after 
some ineffectual attempts to disengage her 
from her book, would lock the door, go home 
to his dinner, and return again, and find her 
in the same spot ; and unconscious either of 
his absence, or that the dinner hour was past. 
A friend repeated this account to her, and 
asked her if it was true. She said in reply. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 75 

* It is very much exaggerated, I don't think 
it ever happened more than once or twice.' 
It was on a visit to Boston, that Miss 
Adams first saw Mr Buckminster. He was 
then at college, and about sixteen years old. 
Those who knew^ him will not think her 
description of him an exaggerated one. ' He 
had then,' she said, 'the bloom of health on 
his cheek, and the fire of genius in his eye. 
I did not know from which world he came, 
whether from heaven or earth.' Though so 
young, he entered fully into her character ; 
and before they parted, he gave her a short, 
but comprehensive sketch of the state of 
literature in France and Germany.' After he 
became the Pastor of Brattle street Church, 
he, with Mr Higginson, and Mr Shaw the 
active founder of the Atheneum, pioposed 
to Miss Adams, w^ho, from an enfeebled 
constitution, had begun to grow infirm, to 
remove to Boston ; at the same time procur- 
ing for her, through the liberal subscription 
of a few gentlemen, an annuity for life. 
She had then commenced her History of the 
J^.ws ; and nothing could have been more 



76 LIFE OF 

favorable to its progress, or to her own ease 
of mind, than this benevolent arrangement. 
She could never speak of her benefactors 
without deep emotion. 

From the Rev. Mr Buckminster she re- 
ceived the most judicious, and extensive 
assistance. She was in the habit of visiting 
him in his study, and had his permission to 
come when she pleased, to sit and read 
there as long as she pleased, or take any 
book home and use it like her own. Perhaps 
people are never perfectly easy with each 
other, till they feel at liberty to be silent in 
each other's society. It was stipulated be- 
tween them, that neither party should be 
obliged to talk. But her own language will 
best describe her feelings. 'Mr Buckmin- 
ster would sometimes read for hours without 
speaking. But, occasionally, flashes of gen- 
ius would break forth in some short observa- 
tion, or sudden remark, which electrified me. 
I never could have gone on with my history, 
without the use of his library. I was in- 
debted to him for a new interest in life. 
He introduced me to a valuable circle of 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 77 

frieads ; and it was through him that I be- 
came acquainted with Mrs Dearborn, whose 
kindness and attention to me have been 
unceasing. His character was the perfection 
of humanity. His intellectual powers were 
highly cultivated and ennobled. Yet even 
the astonishing vigor and brightness of his 
intellect were outdone by the goodness of 
his heart. 

' No thought witliin his generous mind had birth, 
But Avhat he might have own'd to heaven and earth.' 

Mr Buckminster assisted Miss Adams's 
researches, and procured information for her, 
relative to the Jews. He took a warm in- 
terest in this oppressed people, and often 
prayed for them during communion service, 
in the same language in which Jesus had 
prayed for them. ' Father, forgive them ! for 
they know not what they do.' For about 
two years after the removal of Miss Adams 
to Boston, she enjoyed this intercourse, visit- 
ting his study with the utmost freedom. 

It is impossible not to look back with ad- 
miration upon the benevolence that prompt- 
ed these kind attentions ; and it is not 
7* 



78 LIFE OF 

a difficult effort of imagination to en- 
ter the library, and to view these laborious, 
and dissimilar students together. The 
one^ distinguished by the natural ease, 
grace and elegance of his manners ; the 
other, timid and helpless. The one, 
treading with the elastic step of youth, and 
the other declining into the vale of years ; 
yet both drawn together by those sympa- 
thies, which spring from the fountain of 
perfect and everlasting good. Who would 
not be touched by the spectacle of a 
young man of distinguished talents, equally 
sought by the world of scieyice, and of fash- 
ion, extending a helping hand, and devoting 
a portion of his valuable time, to a timid 
and helpless female, shrinking from the ills of 
life ; but who indeed derived her happiness 
from the same sources that he did, literature 
and religion ! When, from indisposition, she 
omitted for any length of time her visits, h 
kind note, or a still kinder call alleviated the 
infirmities of her health. But this happi- 
ness was not to last. Miss Adams was only 
one among the many who beheld Mr Buck- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 79 

minster disappear, at the early age of 
twentjeight years, ' in all the brightness of 
his honors, and without any twilight com- 
ing over his fame.' 

Miss Adams corresponded with literary 
characters both abroad and at home, but 
she never preserved any copies of her own 
letters. She wrote with great simplicity, 
and singleness of heart, without any display, 
and set no value on her own composition. 
She had, indeed, a singular standard of 
judging. It was her firm persuasion, that 
she never wrote anything original. ' It 
is other people's thoughts,' said she, 
' that I put into my own language.' Were 
all writers brought to the same test, 
there are few that could claim much origin- 
ality of thought ; though the rich and var- 
ried modes of expression, and the different 
views which different minds take of funda- 
mental truths, often give them the grace 
and charm of novelty. In this opinion 
of herself, however, she seems to refute 
her position ; as it must be acknowledg- 
ed that this view of her own works is 



80 LIFE OF 

rather original among authors. Her defect 
was, underrating, instead of overrating her 
powers. Her mind was like a well cultivated 
garden, stored with fruits and flowers, and 
watered by pure streams. But they were 
streams that flowed on just as nature had 
intended. There were no cascades, nor 
fountains, nor serpentine walks, nor rare ex- 
otics. All was simple, and natural. 

Her timidity was excessive. It pervaded 
her whole character, and sometimes palsied 
the eflbrts of her mind. In her youth she 
amused herself with writing tales of fiction. 
' But,' she said, ' they all took their color 
from her own life. She could do nothing 
but kill and destroy ; and when her situation 
became happier, and her mmd more cheer- 
ful, she could not endure the sight of them.' 
When very young, her health being in a 
feeble state, and not expecting to live long, 
she determined to write a number of letters 
to her young friends, after the manner of 
Mrs Rowe's ; intending they should reach 
them mysteriously, immediately on her death. 
But fortunately for the Jews, and for litera- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 81 

ture, her anticipations were not realized. 
She was early in life much in the habit of 
committing poetry to memory ; and this she 
never forgot. ' I could repeat poetry,' said 
she, '• I believe for three months together ; 
and though I am now continually troubled 
by forgetting where I have laid a knife, a 
pencil, or a pen, yet the long poems I learned 
in my youth, I can repeat as accurately as 
ever.' She went on to observe, that these 
recollections did not give her so much 
pleasure as might be supposed ; for, as this 
poetry was selected when she was young, 
much of it was not of a kind which her ma- 
turer taste and judgment could approve. 

Though Miss Adams w^as born and bred 
in the country, she felt the strongest enthu- 
siasm for rural scenes ; and they always 
seemed to retain the power of novelty over 
her mind. A walk, a ride, or a visit to any 
new place, awoke all the fervor of her 
feelings. It was on one of these occasions 
that she composed the following lines. 

' Such scenes the days of innocence renew, 
And bring the patriarchal age to view, 



82 LIFE OF 

Thus favor'd Abraham, in the days of old, 
On flowery Mamre kept his fleecy fold ; 
While friendly angels left their heavenly seat, 
To greet the patriarch in his calm retreat.' 

There are few who were more cal- 
culated for the enjoyment of friendship 
and society than Miss Adams. Yet for 
a long period she seems to have been in 
a great measure deprived of both. It is 
difficult to say what effects might have been 
produced by the action of other minds upon 
her own. It might have roused it to more 
inventive exertion ; or, on the other hand, in 
the fulness of enjoyment, her mental pow- 
ers might have sunk into indolence. But 
one thing is certain, that her happiness would 
have been greatly increased by it. Those 
w^ho knew her only late in life can fully real- 
ize how much she must have felt the want 
of a friend, after the death of her sister. 
Her strong sensibility to all that was excel- 
lent, and good, and fair in creation, peculiar^ 
ly fitted her for that intercourse of thought 
and feeling, which such emotions naturally 
call forth. Her love of literature was no 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 83 

doubt a high source of enjoyment. But per- 
haps even this might have been increased, 
by those occasional restraints which the 
forms and habits of society impose. The 
epicure is willing to delay his dinner for an 
appetite ; and, upon the same principle, those 
who read, write, or reflect with the great- 
est relish, may return to these occupations 
with tenfold enjoyment, after giving an hour 
or two to a social circle, or even to the dull 
round of a modern tea party. But Miss 
Adams had none of these incentives. She 
was at liberty to read, or write, with 
out interruption ; to turn over huge folios, 
or musty manuscripts, from morning to 
night ; and if she sometimes suspended her 
labors, and walked abroad, it was for a sol- 
itary pleasure. Yet she allowed no senti- 
ment of repining, or of discontent, to em- 
bitter her life ; for she fully realized that, 

* It is th' allotment of the skies, 
The hand of the Supremely Wise, 
That guides and governs our affections 
And plans and orders our connexions ; 
Directs us in our distant road, 
And marks the bounds of our abode.' 



84 LIFE OF 

This feeling of resignation to existing 
circumstances prevented Miss Adams from 
making any strenuous exertions to improve 
her condition. Once, indeed, she projected 
a plan of keeping a circulating library at 
Salem. She had a considerable number of 
books to begin with, and probably encourag- 
ed a hope tliat she might in this way be- 
come instrumental to the promotion of re- 
ligious and moral instruction. But she nev- 
er thought superficially on any subject; and 
before engaging in active measures, she 
made full inquiry into the probable success 
and consequences of her plan. It was then 
that her upright, and conscientious mind, 
relinquished the undertaking. The reflec- 
tion, that the emoluments of a circu- 
lating library are drawn from novels, plays, 
and romances, and that, in keeping such a 
library, she must be accessary to much waste 
of time, if not perversion of taste and even 
of principle, by disseminating works which 
often are read because they are new, deter- 
mined her conduct. She felt, and lamented 
the injury, which the promiscuous reading 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 85 

of similar works had produced on her own 
mind. While they had sharpened her sensi- 
bility to the evils of life, they had also ener- 
vated her resolution to endure them ; and 
she ascribed much of her mental suf- 
fering to this cause. She would not, there- 
fore, pursue the plan of a circulating library, 
though encouraged to do it by some warm- 
hearted friends. Had the Waverley novels 
made their appearance in her youthful days, 
they would probably have rendered harm- 
less the greater part of those which fell in- 
to her hands. Their just historical painting, 
their strong delineation of character, and 
masterly touches of passion and feeling, 
united with the exquisite description of what 
is beautiful and sublime in the scenery of 
nature, could not fail to have given her a 
juster taste, and directed her enthusiasm 
to a higher mark. Her own good sense, 
led her, in time, to discriminate, and to 
separate the gold from the dross ; and she 
never ceased to derive great pleasure from 
a well written work of fiction. Her whole 
testimony, however, was given against that 
8 



86 LIFE OF 

promiscuous reading of novels, which has 
been in times past, more than of late years, 
permitted among young girls. The rapid 
progress of education, by occupying the 
time, and expanding the mind, has done 
much towards the correction of this evil. Ma- 
ny now sip at the fountain-head of elegant lit- 
erature, and feel the beauty of Virgil, and the 
sublimity of Dante, in their native languages; 
listen to the sweet melody of Tasso ; and find 
in the christian leader of the early ages, God- 
frey, a hero far surpassing the heroes of 
modern romances. 

Happily the time has arrived, when the 
cultivation of female intellect needs no lon- 
ger to be advocated, or recommended. It 
is now placed on a just and rational ground. 
We hear no longer of the alarming^ and 
perhaps justly obnoxious din, of the ' rights 
of women.' Whatever their capacity of 
receiving instruction may be, there can be no 
use in extending it beyond the sphere of 
their duties. Yet how wide a circle does 
this include ! Who can doubt the sacred and 
important duties of a mother ? ' Nature has 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 87 

not more evidently assigned them the task 
of nourishing the body of the infant, than 
she has that of developing, and cultivating 
the mind, in its earlier stages.' It is her 
office to sow the first seeds of virtue ; to 
regulate the first excitements of temper ; to 
cultivate gentleness, forbearance, disinter- 
estedness, and above all, obedience. For 
this, her own habits must be those of care- 
ful observation, of steady self-government, 
and of systematical arrangement ; otherwise, 
her plan will be made up of miscellaneous 
feelino-s. and oninions, that will be constant- 
ly fluctuating. 

' It may be doubted whether any one can 
be placed in so insulated a situation, as to 
possess a right of appropriating any consid- 
erable portion of his time to studies, which 
may not terminate in a practical result.' 
This rule, in an enlightened sense, ought to 
be the standard of a woman's education. 
It ought to be the measure of her cultiva- 
tion. But surely no faculty of her mind can 
be spared from this work. ' She is design- 
ed by nature for elegance, and gentleness ; 



88 LIFE OF 

to endear domestic life to man, to make 
virtue lovely to her children, to spread around 
her order and grace, and to give society its 
highest polish. No attainment can be above 
beings whose end and aim is to accomplish 
these important purposes. Every means 
should be used to invigorate by principle, and 
culture, their native excellence and grace.'* 
These observations may be deemed irre- 
levant, but they are suggested by Miss Ad- 
ams's own remarks on this subject. She 
often regretted the time she had spent in 
useless, and desultory r^nrlinfr on^i ^Koomr^jrl 
that when she first began to turn her atten- 
tion to the study of the dead languages, she 
felt as if she was ' drawing upon herself the 
ridicule of society.' She lived, however, 
to see these prejudices removed, and to re- 
ceive a respect and deference from literary 
men, which often excited her astonishment, 
as well as gratitude. There have been ma- 
ny instances recorded, of talent which has 
been suffered to languish in obscurity and 
want. Against these, the present instance 

* Fenelon. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 89 

ought not to pass unnoticed. The mdividu- 
al kindness that Miss Adams received was 
invariable. She had outlived almost all her 
cotemporaries. But new generations had 
sprung up under the enlightened influences of 
education, who respected her intellect and 
learning, and who loved her for her good- 
ness. After her removal to Boston, she was 
therefore seldom long in solitude. Her little 
apartment was usually decorated with the 
flowers that her young friends brought her. 
Many of them spent hours in reading to her, 
and cheered her by their bright a^id ani- 
mated conversation. It ^vould he mjustice, 
also, not to refer to che disinterested, and 
liberal assistance she received from those 
friends, who eudbled ber to reserve a part 
of her laborious earnings for the benefit of 
a suffering reJativo. The annuity, which 
contiptied t^ her death, was said to have 
been first suggested by ladies ; but after- 
wards, the proposal was put into the hands 
of Mr Shaw, and the other gentlemen men- 
tioned in her memoirs. A few years pre- 
vious to her death, a number of ladies at 
.8* 



90 LIFE OF 

Salem sent her an annual sum as a testimo- 
ny of their respect. 

At one period of her life, her correspon- 
dents were numerous. Amongst them might 
be mentioned names, that will long be cher- 
ished by posterity. The venerable Presi- 
dent Adams, to whom the second edition of 
her View of Religions was dedicated, took 
a benevolent interest in her literary success. 
From one of his letters to her, the following 
sentence is extracted. 

' You and I are undoubtedly related by 
birth ; and although we were both " born in 
humble obscurity ,^' yet I presume neither of 
us have any cause to regret that circum- 
stance. If I could ever suppose that family 
pride was in any casc oxusable, I should 
think a descent from a line of vi:itu()us in- 
dependent New England farmers, for one 
hundred and sixty years, was a bettf^r foun- 
dation for it, than a descent through roya] 
or titled scoundrels ever since the flood,' 

With the learned Bishop Gregoire, whose 
name is familiar in our country as well as 
his own, her correspondence continued ma- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 91 

ny years. The congeniality of their labors 
in the cause of the Jews, as well as general 
philanthropy, had made them acquainted 
with each other. With Mr Cunningham, 
also, Vicar of Harrow, and author of ' The 
World without Souls,' she exchanged letters. 
From Miss More she received several, all of 
which she most highly prized. The late 
Mrs Catharine Cappe was among her cor- 
respondents ; nor can we omit to mention 
her letters from the amiable, and distinguish- 
ed Swedenborgian, Mr Hill. There is one 
also among her papers from the venera- 
ble Bishop Carroll, in reply to a letter of 
hers addressed to him. It is with no nar- 
row feeling we mention names like these. 
We ask not their sect or country. They 
belong to the great family of mankind, and 
we claim affinity as a rightful inheritance. 

The strength of Miss Adams's natural af- 
fection was proportionate to her social ties. 
Of her only remaining sister, and to whom 
her memoir is bequeathed in the ' humble 
hope that it may be a pecuniary benefit to 
her,' she often spoke with deep and ir- 



92 LIFE OF 

repressible feeling. She sometimes project- 
ed plans, by which she might have enjoyed 
more of the society of her nieces ; but she 
submitted to the necessity which separated 
her from her relatives without a murmur. 
One of her nieces was adopted, and educa- 
ted by a lady, who fell a victim to consump- 
tion in the prime of life. Here recollec- 
tion lingers for a moment. Impelled by a 
powerful sense of duty,thi s lady quitted her 
nearest friend, and sought, in the milder 
climate of Italy, that health and freedom of 
respiration which were denied her here. 
She was able to derive much enjoyment 
from her short residence in a land that 
abounded with objects congenial to her taste ; 
but only lived to return, and yield her last 
breath in her native country. 

As Miss Adams has mentioned her works 
in her memoir, in the order in which they 
were written, it is unnecessary to say more of 
them. They have been reviewed, and 
weighed, by a candid public ; and met at the 
time the wants of the different departments 
in which they were written. Her History of 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 93 

New England was a pioneer to many simi- 
lar works that followed. There is, however, 
one work of hers, published in 1804, which 
is less known. It is entitled, ' The Truth 
and Excellence of the Christian Religion 
exhibited.' This work contains interest- 
ing, and short sketches of the lives of em- 
inent laymen, v^ho have written in defence 
of the Christian religion, with extracts from 
their writings. The characters are select- 
ed with judgment and taste, and every cir- 
cumstance is omitted that does not aid her 

Durno^e. From the preface jto.' The Truth 
and Excellence ot the Christian lieiigiuii, 

written by the author, we select one pas- 
sage. ' In order to prevent any misrepresen- 
tation of the design of this compilation, it 
may be proper to inform the reader, that 
these great names, and the testimonies they 
have given of their firm belief of the truth 
of Christianity, are not adduced to justify a 
reliance upon human authority, or to estab- 
lish the divinity of the christian system ; but 
the evidences of revealed religion are still 
submitted to, and boldly challenge, the strict- 



94 LIFE OF 

est scrutiny, by the known and established 
rules of right reason.' In connexion with 
this idea, she quotes the following lines from 
Cowper. 

' "Philosophy baptized 
In the pure fountain of eternal love, 
Has eyes indeed ; and, viewing all she sees, 
As meant to indicate a God to man. 
Gives him the praise, and forfeits not her oAvn." ' 

The order and systematic arrangement of 
this work is excellent. It was principally 
intended for the use of young persons ; and 
the characters selected are not wanting in 

them attractive to the. young. The follow- 
ing anecdote is there related of Grotius. 

' This great man was twice sent on em- 
bassies to England. On his return to Hol- 
land, he found the religious divisions which 
had for some time prevailed in that country 
increased. By his attachment to Barnevelt 
and the remonstrant party, he incurred the 
displeasure of Prince Maurice of Orange. 
In 1669, he was seized and sentenced to per- 
petual imprisonment, and his estate w^§ 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 95 

confiscated. In pursuance of this sentence, 
he was imprisoned in the strong castle of 
Louvestein ; and after having been treated 
with great rigor for more than a year and a 
half, he was rescued by a stratagem of his 
wife. He had been permitted to borrow 
books of his friends ; and when he had pe- 
rused them, they were carried back in a chest 
with his linen, which was in this way sent 
to be washed. During the first year, the 
guards were exact in examining the chest ; 
but at length grew remiss, and did not take 
the trouble to open it. His wife, who be- 
longed to one of the first families in Zea- 
land, and was worthy of such a husband as 
Grotius, observing their negligence, advised 
him to bore holes in the chest to prevent his 
being stifled, and then to put himself into 
it, and to make his escape. She requested 
the governor of the castle to permit her to 
send away a chest. After her request was 
granted, Grotius was put into the chest, and 
conveyed to a friend's house in Gorkum, 
where, dressing himself like a mason, and 
taking a rule and trowel, he passed through 



96 LIFE OF 

the market place, and stepping into a boat, 
went to Brabant. There he discovered him- 
self to some of his friends, and hired a car- 
riage at Antwerp. At first there was a de- 
sign of prosecuting his wife, who remained 
in the prison. However, she was released 
bj a plurality of voices, and universally ap- 
plauded for a resolution and courage which 
saved her husband's life, while it endanger- 
ed her own.' 

It would be a pleasant office, in paying 
this tribute to the memory of a friend, to 
record the names of many whose kindness 
and attention to her were unremitting. 
Some, like herself, have gone to their long 
home ; but others still remain, to continue 
their 'noiseless deeds of worth.' One 
little incident, which greatly interested her 
from the mystery attached to it, is a reason 
for mentioning the name of a lady who is 
now no more, but who was distinguished for 
endowments of mind and person. She 
married, and went to Europe during the rev- 
olutionary war. After passing many years 
in England, Scotland and France, she re- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 97 

turned to this country, with a mind fraught 
with practical knowledge, a heart full of 
benevolence, and blest with that happy tal- 
ent of conversation, that draws forth from 
the recipient as much as it communicates. 
In this lady's society Miss Adams took the 
greatest delight. During their long and 
pleasant intercourse of many years, an artist 
waited on Miss Adams, and requested her to 
sit for a miniature picture of herself : say- 
ing that he was commissioned to solicit the 
favor by a friend. She consented, but was 
entirely at a loss to conjecture who the 
friend could be. The picture was com- 
pleted, and in the course of a few weeks 
sent to her, with the following note. 

My dear Madam — I send you the min- 
iature for which you had the goodness to 
sit. It has been generally recognised, and 
thought a good likeness. I hope it will be 
as much approved in your room, as it has been 
in mine. Now, my dear Madam, you will 
discover the friend who was desirous that 
you should live in future, in person as w^ell as 
9 



98 LIFE OF 

in mind. I sincerely hope others may feel 
as I do on this subject ; and a more valuable 
portrait be secured of the lady, whose talents 
and writings have diffused so much useful 
knowledge, and whose conduct and life has 
been so exemplary. After it has been with 
you long enough for your friends to see it, I 
wish it returned, and to have the honor of 
its hanging in my house. If one better cal- , 
culated for the purpose should not hereafter 
be taken, I shall bequeath it to the Athe- 
naeum. 

With great respect. 

Your friend and servant, 

Catharine Hay. 

Boston, Dec. 25, 1822. 

The hope of this lady was accomplished. 
A few years before Miss Adams's death, 
through the influence of a few friends, a fine 
likeness of her was taken by Mr Harding, 
and was afterwards presented by them to the 
Athenseum. 

We hope it may not be deemed improper 
to mention one other friend, whose life was 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 99 

a series of benevolent and disinterested ex- 
ertions. Immediately previous to Miss Ad- 
ams's illness, she spoke of this friend with 
her accustomed interest ; and with an an- 
ticipation that they should be fellow-travel- 
lers to the land of spirits. Mrs Codman's 
death took place a few days after that of 
Miss Adams. vShe has left to her friends 
those sweet and sacred remembrances, that 
soften and elevate the heart ; while the 
influence of her intelligent, and liberal mind, 
will long be felt in the society in which she 
lived. 

The most prominent trait in Miss Adams's 
character was sensibility. It was impossible 
to converse with her any length of time, 
without touching some of the numerous 
chords that vibrated through her system. 
An instrument thus organized did not require 
the skill of an artist to set it in motion. 
The feeblest hand could extract notes of joy, 
sorrow, or apprehension. Ii responded to ev- 
ery breath that passed over it. This sensi- 
tiveness sometimes put her at the mercy of 



100 LIFE OF 

the unfeeling and obtrusive. But, generally 
speaking, her sensibility was a source of great 
enjoyment. Towards her friends it flowed 
forth in an aflection fervent and enthusiastic. 
' The sight of them,' to use her own expres- 
sion, ' was like the sun and air of Heaven.' 
All that was remotely connected with them 
became important to her. Those who have 
heard her speak of Mr Thacher, the eloquent 
and feeling historian of her friend Mr Buck- 
minster, understood the nature of her emo- 
tions. She almost identified him with the 
being that he so beautifully and justly delin- 
eated. Brothers indeed they were in the 
sacred ties of love and harmony, and in 
those qualities of mind that emanate from 
the source of perfect wisdom and goodness. 
There are many who may apply to both that 
touching sentence the survivor applied to his 
friend ; ' Even now, when time has inter- 
posed to subdue all the more powerful emo- 
tions of grief, there are those who delight 
to recall the hours we have passed with 
them, and to dwell on those traits, which we 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 101 

loved while living, and which death cannot 
efface from our memories.' 

Mr Thacher, unlike his friend, was doom- 
ed to see death approach by slow and falter- 
ing steps. If there is a trial on earth that 
mocks the power of human fortitude, it is to 
feel the usefulness of life cut off, and to be 
compelled to remain idle during the toils of 
the day, while cares and labors are thronging 
around. How nobly he endured this afflic- 
tion, how justly he reasoned that the part 
assigned him was to ivait, must be well re- 
membered. The teachings of Heaven are 
as various as our wants. This sublime exam- 
ple of patient endurance has found its way 
to many a heart, and spoken more forcibly 
than the services even of an active ministry 
could have done. His fervent prayer is now 
accomplished. He has gone to that world 
where ' friendship is uninterrupted, and vir- 
tue eternal.' 

We bless God for the natural evidence of 

a future life, which minds like these, bearing 

the visible stamp of immortality, afford ; we 
9# 



102 LIFE OF 

bless him that such have existed y and we 
bless him that such have preceded those 
w^hom we love, to cast brightness over the 
dark valley of death. 

We hope this involuntary digression will 
be pardoned, and we return again to the 
subject of our memoir. We have spoken of 
her sensibility and elsewhere of her humility. 
This, however, must not be mistaken for that 
slothful quiescent sense of inferiority, which 
sometimes belongs to common minds. It 
was true christian humility ; it was the con- 
sciousness of high moral capacities, falling 
far short of her exalted standard of excel- 
lence. The sensibility that led her so fully 
to appreciate the kindness of her friends, 
made her alive to injury. At any attempt at 
imposition, her spirit rose proportionably, and 
she expressed and felt a resentment for which 
she afterwards reproached herself. 

Her judgment and opinion of books was 
derived from her own power of thought. She 
did not wait for the decision of others, but ex- 
pressed her own fearlessly, when called for. 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 103 

But it was on the subject of character that 
her muid discovered most acuteness and orig- 
inality. Even in those whom she loved, she 
knew how to discriminate, and when she 
allowed herself to speak on the subject, 
plainly discovered that she knew how to 
separate the good from the evil, and that 
she had learned to love them with their 
faults. 

The last visit that Miss Adams made was 
to South Boston, in the family of the Su- 
perintendent of Juvenile Offenders. There 
was much in her short residence there to 
interest her mind. The success of this in- 
stitution ; the groups of rescued children, 
now cheerful and obedient ; the disinterested 
kindness of the family ; nor ought it to be 
forgotten, the beautiful situation of the build- 
ing, overlooking the bay of Boston with its 
many islands, the harbor and city rising in 
its pyramid of beauty, and crowned by the 
dome of the State-house ; all called forth 
her enthusiasm, and brightened the last days 
of her earthly existence. When she return- 



104 LIFE OF 

ed to her lodgings in Boston, she lamented 
the want of sun and of prospect. By the 
instrumentality of judicious friends, she was 
removed to Brookline ; and when there, she 
wrote the following note to a friend, which, 
as the last effort of her pen, is here inserted. 

Dear Madam — Will you excuse me if 
I trouble you with a few lines. I am now 
settled for the winter, if I live. The great- 
est earthly happiness I can enjoy is seeing 

my friends, among whom dear Mrs is 

in the first rank. I need not inform you, 
and I am unable to express, how much pleas- 
ure it would give me to see you in Brook- 
line. The lady I am now boarding with is 
all goodness. My trembling hand will 
scarcely allow me to write. Adieu, dear 
Madam ; pray call upon me as soon as you 
can conveniently. 

From your affectionate and grateful friend, 

H. Adams. 

Brookline, Nov. 12, 1831. 

The friend to whom the note was address- 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 105 

ed hastened to see her. She found her 
m a large, and airy apartment. It was 
a fine mornmg ; one of those days in which 
' Autumn seems to linger in the lap of Win- 
ter.' The sun poured its rajs into her 
apartment to her heart's content. She was 
bright, and cheerful, and said with a smile 
she ' believed some people thought she had 
lived long enough ; but she was willing to 
remain as long as it pleased God to contin- 
ue her,' and then added, pointing to the 
prospect without, ' how can any body be 
impatient to quit such a beautiful world !' 
But little remains to be added to this 
short sketch, and that little perhaps is ex- 
pressed in the Obituary notice which we 
subjoin. 

OBITUARY. 

Died at Brookline, near Boston, on the 
15th inst. Miss Hannah Adams, aged seven- 
tysix. Her literary labors have been long 
before the public, and have made her name 
known in Europe as well as in her native 



106 LIFE OF 

land. Her first work, the ' View of Reli- 
gions,' was published at a time when this 
country had few authors, and when a book 
from a female hand was almost without pre- 
cedent. She was not impelled by any de- 
sire of fame ; and though the hope of use- 
fulness was undoubtedly a strong motive to 
her literary exertions, yet this would not 
have availed, w ithout the prospect of contri- 
buting by her pen to her own support, and the 
comfort of her nearest friends. It is grati- 
fying to know, that she has left behind a 
simple and interesting memoir of her early 
life, which precludes the necessity of saying 
more of her literary history. Indeed, litera- 
ry claims are perhaps among the last that, at 
a moment like this, present themselves to the 
minds of her friends. The virtues and ex- 
cellences of her character, her blameless life, 
her sensibility, the warmth of her affections, 
her sincerity and candor, call forth a flow of 
feeling that cannot be restrained. To an al- 
most child-like simplicity, and singleness of 
heart, she united a clear and just conception 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 107 

of character ; to a deep and affecting hu- 
mility, a dignity and elevation of thought, 
that commanded the respect and veneration 
of those around her. Amidst many infirmi- 
ties she retained the freshness and enthu- 
siasm of youth. Society never lost its charms. 
To the aged she listened with submission and 
gentleness ; to the classic and highly gifted, 
with a delight almost amounting to rapture. 
The young, and there were such who felt 
it a privilege to ' sit at her feet,' she viewed 
as ' ministering ano:els' dispensing joy and 
gladness. Her love of nature was exhaust- 
less. The first beam of morning, the glory 
of noon, the last rays of the setting sun, were 
objects which through a long life she never 
contemplated with indifference. Those 
who w'ere in the habit of visiting her, will 
recollect how constantly her apartment was 
decorated by flowers of the field, or the gar- 
den. It was her object to gather round her 
images of natural and moral beauty. In 
many respects her mind seemed so truly con- 
stituted for enjoyment, that to those who 



108 LIFE OF 

knew her but slightly, she might have ap- 
peared to be exempted from that mental 
discipline, which is gradually leading the 
pilgrim on to the land of promise. But her 
friends knew otherwise ; they knew how 
keen was her religious sensibility, how 
tremblingly alive her conscience, how high 
her standard of excellence, and how great 
her timidity and self-distrust, and they felt 
that this was not her haven of rest. 

Though Miss Adams's faith was fervent 
and devout, it partook of the constitution of 
her sensitive mind, rather than gave the tone 
to it. Yet amidst moments of doubt and de- 
spondency, a passage from scripture, or a 
judicious observation, would disperse the 
clouds that had gathered round her, and the 
brightest sunshine would diffuse itself over 
her mind and countenance. There are ma- 
ny who will sorrow that they shall see her 
' face no more ; ' but those who knew the 
peculiar delicacy of her constitution, ought 
rather to rejoice that she has escaped from 
the present inclement winter ; from the 



MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 109 

Stormy wind and tempest; that her eyes have 
opened upon ' one eternal Spring,' a season 
that always awoke the enthusiasm of her 
nature, and which she said seemed to her 
' like the first freshness of cree^tion.' 

It was her happiness to have been conver- 
sant with some of the most enlightened and 
gifted men of the age. From many she re- 
ceived essential benefit ; and the universal 
sympathy and respect, as well as the indi- 
vidual kindness which she excited, are testi- 
monies honorable to human nature. Many 
in whom she delighted have passed away. 
To those she has gone, and to the Father 
and Saviour whom she loved. 

The last tribute of respect is, however, 
yet to be paid to the honored subject of this 
notice. Her remains are to be removed to 
Mount Auburn, near Boston, the spot select- 
ed for a cemetery. Subscriptions for a monu- 
ment to her memory have been raised, and 
it will be erected in the spring. There 
seems to be almost a poetical unity in this 
10 



110 LIFE OF MISS HANNAH ADAMS. 

arrangement ; that one who so devoutly 

' Looked through nature up to nature's God,' 

should be one of the first tenants of a spot, 
combining so much natural beauty ; and 
which possesses that magnificence of wood 
and water, which bespeaks it ' a temple 
not made with hands.' 






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